


Unwanted Memories

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That had been harder than what he'd expected it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwanted Memories

**Author's Note:**

> 23/06/2016: Lost original summary, but otherwise nothing else has been changed.

That had been harder than what he'd expected it to be.

The front door ricocheted off the wall behind it as Sherlock stormed through, barely remembering in time to raise his forearm to block the door as it swung back with the intent to hit him right in the face. By now the suit was positively stifling and he longed to get rid of it. Store it in the back of his wardrobe or throw it away, he didn't know yet. He just needed to get rid of it because of the reminder it carried within the fabric – the reminder of what he'd done today.

He wrestled his coat off and threw it in the direction of the hanger, hearing it fall to the floor in a heap, as he stormed up the stairs to the flat.

 With shaking hands, he took off the vest and fumbled with the buttons of his white shirt, heading toward the direction of his bedroom. God, but he needed to delete this entire day from his memory. Pretend it never happened. Could he do that? Could he delete it so that he never had to revisit it and the unwanted burden of memories so that he could get on with his life as usual?

 _John would be furious if you did that,_ said an unhelpful voice (almost like Mycroft's, yet not as grating) in the back of his mind. _You'd lose him further if you deleted his big day._

But it was the only solution!

_You and I both know that's not true._

Alright, what else was there? How was he supposed to continue knowing that his best friend, his John, was now elsewhere, sharing his life with someone else?

 _Don't you remember your twenties?_ asked the voice. _Don't you remember your solution? I'm disappointed in you, Sherlock. You vowed not to forget._

Anger surged through Sherlock. Drugs. Seven percent solution. He was clean!

_Once an addict, always an addict, as they say._

“Shut up!” shrieked Sherlock, reaching up to yank his hair roughly. He couldn't think with these voices in his mind. How was he supposed to think of the best way to _stop thinking_ with them around? “Just shut up, shut up, shut up!”

He stalked to the coffee table and with one swipe, he sent everything to the floor. Belatedly, he would thank his past self for not keeping his laptop there. After losing John, he couldn't lose the laptop too. Lose too many things, and he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

No, he wouldn't turn to drugs. Sherlock drew himself up with the dignity he didn't possess, and decided enough was enough. He couldn't hide his problems behind the drugs. All through his twenties he had put up a facade to hide and protect his drug addiction. He'd learned from past mistakes and he couldn't afford a relapse.

He would make himself tea, he would sit down, and he would find himself a case. Any case. There were hundreds of emails from people who thought their problems were top priority; hundreds of people who needed some kind of help, even if the problem was minor. 

For once, he didn't care how stupid the case was. He just needed to take his mind off of things.

To take his mind off of John.

Anything would do.


End file.
